


Honeybee

by stratusdreams



Series: Fanwalker Stories [1]
Category: Magic: The Gathering (Card Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, but like... bare minimum comfort, repost after my mental breakdown lol, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 17:04:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21019229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stratusdreams/pseuds/stratusdreams
Summary: Whenever Chiara gets into an argument with her current on-and-off lover, she knows exactly where to go for comfort.Inspired by "Honeybee" by Steam Powered Giraffe.





	Honeybee

**Author's Note:**

> When does this happen in the grand scheme of my fanwalker's stories? No clue. Just really wanted to write some angst for my girls.

Chiara stood in front of the wooden door and steeled herself. She always ended up here, always came crawling back here when she felt broken and needed fixing. And she knew that it would hurt. But she had nowhere else to go, so she knocked on the door of Olympia’s Ravnica apartment and stepped back, waiting for it to open.

As always, Olympia unlocked the door and opened it wide, her emotions nigh unreadable. She only gave a small smile at the Azra’s presence. “Chiara… It’s been awhile.”

“It has,” Chiara replied simply, reciting her lines effortlessly. They’d been through this song and dance too many times, Chiara mused. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” Olympia stepped aside and let Chiara in. The necromancer’s apartment was cold and dark. Blankets were strewn across chairs, and clothes lay haphazardly on the ground. _ It’s worse than last time_, the Azra thought. _ I wonder what happened_.

Olympia’s voice called Chiara back to the present. “What brings you here?”

_ You already know the answer. _ “It’s--”

“Don’t say his name,” the brunette said softly. “I don’t want to hear it.” Her voice was quiet but sharp as a razor’s edge. 

“Okay.”

“Just… come in, alright? Let’s sit.” Olympia gestured to her couch. “I’ve got a lot of blankets. We can just cuddle and hold each other for awhile. How does that sound?”

“Good.” Chiara sent a spark flying over to a candle, lighting it to bring some warmth into the room. “I’ll never understand why you just sit in the dark. I gave you a lighter.”

“I find it comforting,” the necromancer replied as she sat down. She patted the spot next to Chiara. “Like you are.”

The redhead felt her lip twitch at the compliment. She didn’t respond; she just strode over to Olympia and sat down at her side. The other woman brushed Chiara’s hair from her face, caressed her cheek, and gave her a soft kiss. The Azra didn’t react.

Olympia pulled away with a furrowed brow and a frown. “You didn’t like that.”

Chiara said nothing.

“It’s okay,” the brunette mumbled. “I didn’t either.”

“Don’t lie.”

“Sorry.”

They sat in silence for a few moments before Olympia spoke again. “Why are you here?”

“You told me not to talk about h--it.”

“Why didn’t you go to someone else? Like Sigurd.”

“I--”

“You’re always telling me not to lie,” Olympia said, cutting Chiara off before the Azra could even speak. “Don’t you lie to me.”

“I never slept with him.” Chiara saw confusion flash in the necromancer’s eyes. “He told me no. Seeing him is… weird. I can’t look at him without feeling ashamed.”

“You don’t need to feel ashamed for wanting comfort.”

_ You make me feel like I do_, Chiara thought bitterly. “I guess. I mean… I don’t know. It’s all broken and wrong. He deserves better than me.”

“Don’t say that. You’re wonderful and beautiful and anyone would be lucky to have you.” Olympia’s voice was tinged with sorrow, and Chiara had no idea how to comfort her. They didn’t belong together. They’d tried their relationship so many times before, but Olympia was too jealous and controlling, and Chiara was too flighty and insecure. 

And yet, no matter how much they didn’t belong together, they still ended up crashing back into one another. That was mostly Chiara’s fault. Anytime she’d get into a spat with her somewhat-lover, she’d go crying to Olympia for comfort, and Olympia was always happy to indulge her.

Maybe “happy” wasn’t quite the right word -- “willing” was more like it. Olympia wanted to give their relationship another try, and Chiara didn’t. She just wanted a soft touch and gentle whispers and a hand to hold at the market. The necromancer provided that, and Chiara wanted nothing more, even though it was selfish.

“The same goes for you,” was all Chiara could think to say. 

More silence.

Olympia spoke again -- she hated awkward silences more than anything. “We should go to a show tonight.”

“Why?”

“Why do you always have to question everything I do?” the brunette snapped. “I’m trying to cheer you up, okay? I’m trying to make you happy. Please stop making it hard!” Tears threatened to spill down her face. “Let me make you happy, Chiara.”

The Azra turned away to hide the fact that she, too, was on the verge of sobbing. “Okay.”

“Do you want me to make you happy?”

“I do.”

“Can you act like it, then?” Olympia’s voice wasn’t accusatory or angry; rather, it was pitiful and hopeless. “Let’s get dressed in our prettiest clothes -- I still have that one dress you left here last time. We’ll get dinner, and go to a show, and get drunk and kiss and hold each other all night, and things will be okay. You can sleep in my bed and I’ll make you breakfast in the morning, and we’ll watch the sun rise, and maybe tomorrow we’ll go to the market. I’ll buy you a bouquet of flowers, any kind you want. And you can stay with me as long as you want, and we’ll be happy together, just the two of us. How does that sound?” Olympia was cupping Chiara’s face in her hand, turning the Azra to face her. 

“It sounds lovely,” Chiara murmured, forcing a smile to her face. She took Olympia’s hand in hers, purple against white, the physical contrast lovely in comparison to their actual compatibility. “We can do that.” 

At least, for a little while, they could pretend to be happy.


End file.
